


Steady

by SpaceFlapper



Series: Sacred and Profane [14]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Emprise du Lion (Dragon Age), Established Relationship, F/M, losing some tension, mentions of other companions, together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:27:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25169950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaceFlapper/pseuds/SpaceFlapper
Summary: "She said his name, called out for him. And he understood then that if he was to die tomorrow, he would have regretted more not giving himself the chance of knowing this happiness than parting with it."
Relationships: Cullen Rutherford/Female Trevelyan, Cullen Rutherford/Trevelyan, Female Inquisitor/Cullen Rutherford, Inquisitor/Cullen Rutherford
Series: Sacred and Profane [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/199955
Kudos: 13





	Steady

The hum is grieving and heavy. It wails and begs against his temples and it hurts his entire body. His fingers slip and too late he realizes there's a crumbled report in his hands.

This outpost is punishment for any mage and Templar in the Inquisition. There is no room for the cold surrounded by the red lyrium’s burning presence. Five days and he needs to last three more…

The Tower Camp grew louder and the Commander looked up to search for the source of the sudden agitation. As cheering and laughs took over the usual grim morale his eyes fell on the approaching party, descending from the mountains. The Inquisitor marched towards their post, her silhouette dressed in white leathers and fur, a clear sight against the snowy rocks. They were back.

Everyone lined up to greet them and offer help should any be needed, and he did no less. He rose up and stepped past the worn out desk, waiting, pacing his breath. She had enough on her shoulders and he wished not to give reason to add to her worries.

Inside the camp, the Inquisitor acknowledged those along her path and stopped to share the findings with the requisition officers. She parted ways with her trusted friend and let the mage walk towards his tent, followed by the strange young boy that would not leave their side those days. From afar the Iron Bull nodded his way before thrusting his axe in the snow and disappearing down the planks towards the lower levels.

The woman made her way to the base of the tower, and he took note of the smile on her usual grave face as their eyes met. He welcomed the sight and allowed his shoulders to straighten with slight confidence.

“Commander.”

“Good hunt, Inquisitor?”

She reached out and he was thankful for her skilled manners, something he would remarkably fail if he’d initiate, lost between what could be too little or too much. Her gloved hands on his arms and her bright eyes warming up to him - their shared affection always remained diplomatic in front of the many.

“We’ve managed to seal the breaking point for the darkspawn in the area… at least for a while. Took a lot out of Dorian to secure every corner.” The slight smile completely left her plum lips and the easiness in her voice was replaced with concern.

“The headaches?”

What even made him think he could keep it away from her? He might as well be completely honest and spare her the energy of pulling the information out of him.

“They are not with mercy. This red lyrium makes me feel the weight of my own bones.”

“You shouldn’t be here.” Her tone hardened. “You should have left with the convoy back to Skyhold.”

“No. Samson is using this quarry to turn what remains of the Templars into monsters. I cannot step away from this mess in good conscience and leave it on someone else.”

Her hands tugged at his arms firmly, in a plea she would not voice.

“Cullen, we’re hunting them down and shutting off the entire operation. And our dwarven experts are doing their best to destroy the lyrium in the area.”

“I’ve been reading the correspondence you found.” Fight fire with fire he thought to himself. “There are mentions of the armor Samson is wearing that are of serious concern. The sooner I look into this the better. Every day counts Inquisitor. This is exactly where I should be.”

Her shoulders lost some of the tension and the way she looked at him told him he was winning that argument.

“You are a stubborn man, Rutherford.” She echoed words she had spoken back in Heaven. It must have been less than an year when they’d met in the wake of that disaster and fought with every opportunity they had… yet… it felt like a memory from a lifetime ago… and the woman in front of him… he felt like he had cheated – that he should have not been able to know her this intimately in such a short time. It felt like they’d spent years together.

“You are not the woman to talk, _Not-Andraste’s-Herald._ ”

“And I was proven right.” She retorted smartly.

Past the pain, he found the strength in him to smile victoriously.

He saw the realization of his trap form in her eyes and she lifted her arms up defeated.

The noble stepped back and crossed her hands, sizing him with a calculating look. Her eyes skipped momentarily towards the desk by his side and she let him boil in confusion under her scrutinizing watch a moment too long for his comfort.

“Would …this…”she gestured amply and dismissively to his paperwork. “allow you to step away from it for at least a couple of hours? Or would it set itself on fire the moment you’d walk away?” There was no malice in her voice, her mind clearly more invested in her newly born idea.

“I believe it should be alright …” he let out in confusion.

“Good enough!” she interrupted with sharp determination. “Will you accompany me outside the camp?”

Trevelyan didn’t wait for an answer as she unstrapped the leather holding her spear to her back and walked to their improvised armory to discard it. She picked up a sword and secured it by her hip, before dropping her belt with pouches nearby.

“Should I grab my sword? Where are we going?”

The tall woman glanced at him without turning. “You shouldn’t need it but it’s better than walking out there unarmed and unprepared. And I am taking you out of here. If I can’t convince you to get out of Emprise, at least we’ll take you somewhere where there’s less of this cursed thing to mess with your head.”

“Jesebel, you just returned; you don’t have to...” His voice faltered, her name slipping through his lips.

“Don’t make me turn it into an order.”

He did not object. Instead the man went for his own sword, leaving the shield behind. His muscles were sore with tension and if it was a walk she was proposing, carrying that around would defeat the purpose.

She stepped towards the crossroad the Inquisition had created and waited for him. When Cullen caught up with her she started moving towards the gates leading to the repaired bridge. By the opened gates the two stationed soldiers immediately stood and took position, greeting them on their way out.

He kept a step back in their promenade across, allowing his eyes to roam over her side. She kept her long hair pulled back, away from her face, falling freely down her back; there were webs caught in it and her leather coat had tears in it, all of that acquired in Maker knows what corners under their feet she had ventured to with her company. She had fought darkspawn and all he could do was arm himself with the faith that she would always return to him unharmed. The wind carried his thoughts away, to the vast land where they found themselves.

“Since the old bridge was damaged the templars couldn’t reach the other side on their own without going through the Inquisition. Their presence there was scarce and it seems red lyrium could not taint the area.”

“Sounds like a peaceful place.”

But just as he let out those words the stone under him vibrated and a low rumble reached them.

The woman glanced at him with a grin.

“Also a reason why they prefer to stay away from that side.”

“What was that?”

“That’s the queen Ravager.”

“Is it safe to get closer to her lair then?”

“Should be. She’s nesting her dragonlings and doesn’t attack this time of year. At least not small pray.”

The thought did not have much of a calming effect but he did not press further. Putting distance between him and the red lyrium was considerably lifting some of the pressure from his temples and he was already hooked on that feeling.

The walk went in a shared silence, sealed with the slow rhythm of their steps in the snow.

The couple passed through Orlesian arcs and abandoned serpentines. Sometimes the wind carried snow that melted in the steamy pools by their sides. Cullen found himself distracted, enjoying the newly discovered peace. Their surroundings were far from welcoming, empty, cold and in ruin, but it was easy to see the beauty that the place had once possessed. He tried to imagine a time when life had reigned over the area and it must have been lovely.

Lost in his thoughts he failed to see the woman step away from the path and towards the rocks to their right.

“Come…”

“Are we going any place in particular?”

“Mhm.” She hummed and he followed. They stepped through fallen stones and along the sides of various pools.

Eventually she reached a tall spot and pulled herself up. She turned, her arm stretched to offer him help. Cullen was almost determined not to take her hand, wanting to prove himself capable of the same but then remembered who he was with. He had nothing to prove to her, no face to save, and she never asked anything of him except his trust. And he had given it unconditionally. Since, he had not thought back to that day. It was easy not to, when he had found so much care and gentleness in the unexpected arms of this monumental woman.

“Thank you.”

Her hands lingered a moment longer on his, keeping him close. That was her answer.

They continued through the rocks and kept safe from the water as much as possible. She lead through a crevice and on the other side awaited a spot untouched by the rubble.

“We’re here.”

He looked around. There wasn’t much to it but it was calm. No sound outside the wind and the water, no corrupt hum whispering into his ears. Just him… and her.

As he searched for the woman he froze realizing she had started to undress, her weapons placed on the rocks and her sash belt discarded on the pebbles.

“What are you doing?”

His question made her turn and look at him.

“What does it look like?” She smiled and returned to her clothes. “Drop the armor, Commander.”

The man stood still for a long time, still trying to coordinate his body with the newly received information. He thought he stumbled on his own words but couldn’t say for sure. So he took the decision to start with his sword; unbuckled his belt and almost too carefully placed it against one of the stones. Then, grouchily he went for his boots, almost instantly regretting having to bend and look down, all the pressure hitting against his skull and renewing his headache. Eventually they came off and he did everything in his power to keep his eyes on the ground and drag the moment. He needed to get a grip on himself and stop acting like it was the first time they’d found themselves naked. It must have been the place; even if it was protected from sight …it was still out in the open and anyone … anything could walk in on them. What if something would attack? He shouldn’t allow -

“Still with me Cullen?”

He lifted his eyes and froze. She swayed his way, naked, disarming, water rippling against her bare feet.

Her hands went to his pauldron, slowly working her way through his armor and the familiarity of that moment put his racing mind at ease. It was a ritual he’d always let himself be carried into, as if he’d been the warrior all along. ‘ _Your battles are no less important than mine.’_ she kept reminding him. ‘ _You fight for your sanity, and then you fight for the Inquisition, and for a better cause than I ever have.’_ She’d say and then she’d look to meet his gaze. And there he was, even in that moment glancing right into her citrine eyes through a silence that spoke on its own. ‘ _And you fight for me too.’_ It pained him to read sadness in her eyes, to even imagine she, of all people, could think she’d not be worthy of the shell of a man he was when they met.

“So rest. And let me take care of you.”

He grinned and breathed her in.

“Ever so eloquent.”

His smile was contagious. “You say that as if it doesn’t turn you on.”

He watched her; memorized the sight of her tall frame, her dark skin and firm muscles- even stripped of her armor and title she was a force to be reckoned with. And yet her touch was gentle and weightless. He loved her. Maker, he loved every inch of her, every scar and rough edge of her body.

She lifted his shirt up and he obediently raised his arms to allow her to pull it over his head. The moment the fabric lifted he crashed his lips on hers, taking pride in the feeling of her body relaxing even further next to him. Just barely she stepped away to look into his eyes before she slowly let herself down, pushing his trousers with her, to his ankles and helping him out of them. Her face brushing so close to his loins sent fire through his entire body.

The woman got up and, once he found himself completely naked, she grabbed his hands and pulled him with her towards the deeper waters. When it reached her thighs she let go and submerged herself up to her neck, waiting for him to follow.

The cold air got replaced by the incredibly warm water of the pool.

She watched him with a satisfied smile, allowing him the time to accommodate. With his legs crossed under him Cullen welcomed the floating sensation; he cupped his hands filled with water and brought them up, to his face and into his hair.

“I can’t believe this feels so good.” He muttered with his eyes kept closed.

“The Dalish have an old belief that these pools have a healing effect.”

A crumb of concern formed in his head and he finally opened his eyes to look at her. Her head was low, eyelids barely parted.

“You believe it is so?”

“I believe the tale holds some truth.” The woman stretched her shoulders and finally looked up to meet his eyes. “But I wouldn’t take anything too literal.”

“How is your head?”

“Better. Far better.”

She nodded. “That’s good. For how long have the headaches been going on this time?”

“Honestly, since I stepped through those paths infested with red lyrium they never stopped.”

He knew he couldn’t avoid her concern this time.

“We need to get you out of here soon. You’re already going through a lot as it is. Being so close to red lyrium can only do more harm.”

“I know. I promise that I will leave as soon as it’s reasonable.”

“Thank you.” Her smile was kind. “Mmm…” the woman continued invitingly.

She pushed herself across the bottom toward one of the stones and he joined her. With her back against it she opened her arms, welcoming him to her chest. He turned and slowly let himself lean backwards until his body fit in her embrace, his head sheltered in the curve of her neck and his back pressed against her breasts. He felt her legs around his hips, and he helped them into his lap. Her warm hand found its way into his hair and after a gentle kiss on his temple she rested her head against his.

He lost himself to the warmth of the water and the gentle tug on his hair. Her other hand rose steady across his chest and stopped on top of his heart. His own followed and under the water he entangled his fingers with her.

“What about you?”

“Hmm?” the low hum sent tingles across the nerves of his ear.

“You left in the middle of the night looking for the source of the darkspawn. You must be exhausted.”

“Hmm, I just had to keep Dorian unscratched while he poured magic out of his ass. It was mostly him killing himself over it and Bull taking all the heavy hits.”

“I’ve seen you fight enough times not to believe that you would take the easy part.” He paused.

“Of course I don’t. I make sure Cole is safe and happy all the time.”

“I mean it. How are you feeling?” His grip strengthened involuntarily around her hand. “Does it still hurt?”

“Constantly. Some times more than others.”

He frowned.

“But before you start worrying I would be more concerned if it would suddenly stop hurting.”

He knew. It’s something they’d talked about in the past enough times, either casually or by her side, holding her through the pain. So instead he pulled her hand up and pressed his lips tenderly against it.

She held him to her chest and slowly he wrapped himself in the calmness of the moment, the shy sounds of the world around them, the rhythm of her caresses and the lull of her heart beating right through his chest.

A low sigh left his chest and with it he poured out all the tension, all the worries, every bit of uncertainty that would normally pull at the threads of his soul.

“We are truly alone. Just you and me.”

Her lips kissed his temple, the corner of his eye, the line of his cheek.

“Just you and me…”she whispered.

He opened his eyes just enough to let the light through his eyelashes.

“Just for a moment…” he told himself, finding an excuse for the lack of guilt he was feeling at tossing away his responsibilities and regrets.

Time passed - he could not tell if it had been just an instant or if he had dozed off.

“I do not know how you manage, but I see myself clear because of you.” the words escaped his lips and he hoped he didn’t have a stupid embarrassing smile on his face.

The hand in his hair froze. Her shoulders tensed and her chest stood still, a breath locked there.

That sudden change sent his eyes wide open and he turned in her now rigid embrace.

“Have I said something wrong?”

Her back straightened and the woman craftily created a safe distance between their bodies.

“No, it’s not –”

Yet her uncharacteristic pause confirmed his fears.

His first instinct was to apologize but the man stopped himself just as he realized the trouble that kept her from looking at him.

“Listen, I –” he stopped again, now completely facing her. “I’ve said something that has upset you. And I know we’ve been through this before but I can’t follow your thoughts if they come from a place where I am not allowed into. So there is a chance I could at any time say something that makes you uncomfortable. It’s not my intention.”

Her hands found their way to his arms.

“That’s not it. You’ve not upset me. Although I appreciate that you’re confronting me. When I first offered my help with your lyrium withdrawal it was on different terms. But since then we have crossed the line in many ways and not a single one I regret. However the moment we crossed that line became the moment where you deserved the whole truth. My ... whole personal truth.”

“You... scare me when you get like that. Fills my mind with the worst of thoughts.”

She let out a laugh, but it echoed bitterness and insecurity.

“And that is what makes it so much harder to open up about it.”

The woman spent a moment with her thoughts before finding herself again, before pulling herself closer and searching for his neck and shoulders with her hands in a reassuring gesture.

“I... don’t know what tomorrow will bring. We don’t know how this conflict will end. The only time on our hands is not our own and you know it as well as I.”

She took a long breath for both their sakes.

“When ... this is done, if we’re still around...if there will ever be a time for us - no holes in the world, no fucking lunatic playing god, no Inquisitor this, Inquisitor that, no battles you charge into praying they won’t be your last - _if_ there is a _time_ for you and me - I promise you! I promise I will tell you everything.”

Of course he knew. Of course he was aware that what they'd found could be as temporary as the next day. He liked to think that the uncertainty was just because their lives were now dedicated to the Inquisition’s cause. But his own demons would never stop telling him that if things had been different, if this situation hadn't forced their hands into working together, none of this would have happened. Which made him really anxious about what was waiting for them should they survive. Would she still want to be by his side… would she vanish and go back to being a renegade?

“Until such a time, I need to stay in the game. I can’t afford it. I’m sorry.” She refused to look away from him no matter how difficult it was. “I can’t afford losing the one good thing I have.”

Maybe he was supposed to feel upset but her last words weighted on his heart more than anything else.

“ _The one good thing_.... I like the sound of that.”

He felt her discomfort rise again so he cut her off before she could say anything else that would worry the both of them.

“And when - _if_ that time ever comes … I promise I’ll listen. No more, no less. It should be a good enough start.”

He wished he could have said nothing would change his love for her; nothing would make him leave her side and he would have meant it. But he knew better. He knew she would not have taken anything else but swift reality, and it would have done them no favours to promise things he could not understand.

He got lost in those eyes, the droplets of water on her skin and her wet chocolate hair. This incredible woman had her hands around his neck and any desire demon had nothing on him compared to what was real in front of him. 

“Maker you are beautiful…”

Her hands wrapped around his neck tighter and she laughed.

“Cullen...” she started dismissively.

“No. Please. Let me have this.”

Her laughter lined into a smile and she made no other comment, allowing his eyes to roam over every feature of her face.

He set his attention on her full lips, on the mole caught in the corner and the scar crossing her chin. And leaned down.

A reverberating screech filled the air and the water around them rippled. What followed was a strong gush of wind sending snow off the rocks surrounding them and again, the same shriek broke through the sky.

“What in the –”

True to his instincts, almost immediately, the ex-templar startled with the intention of darting for his weapons when a firm grasp on his wrist pulled him back.

“Wait.”

The moments after were charged with tension, they felt too long, too nerve-racking.

And then the sun disappeared behind the largest beast he had ever seen, wings spread across the entire sky, claws the size of his arm, and the horns poking from the side of its head.

The dragon flew right above them in her ascent, her call thundering now up in the sky, circling above the mountains.

“Isn’t she beautiful?”

At a safer distance, and seemingly unnoticed, Cullen was able to regain his bearings.

“She’s terrifying.”

He could not understand how the woman could laugh calmly by his side.

“That she is.”

“Should we be here?”

“We’re in no danger from her unless we attack. She’s been uncharacteristically peaceful – used to share her hunting grounds with two other dragons. But those were posing a real threat to our people so we had to hunt them down.”

“I’ve heard the stories…” His eyes were still up, at the beast reigning over the area but he was easing up to the conversation. “Our agents have brought the spoils to Skyhold and Josephine managed to secure a lot of favors in exchange.”

“If people come back to live in this area we’ll have to take her down as well. A pity.”

He looked back at the woman trying to read her. “You’ve always enjoyed the hunt. Doesn’t that contradict how you feel about these beasts?”

“Why would it? What they do, they do to survive. As do we…It doesn’t have to be pretty. It’s just the way it is. All you have to do is to respect this life. Allow everything to have its place, and don’t take more than you need.” She glanced at him. “That’s the power that creates _gods_ , and that’s also what unmakes them.”

“I am not falling again for this trap of a nonbeliever.” He shook his head and retorted jokingly.

“You’re just scared I’m right and there is no bigger plan awaiting out there.” Oh how insufferable that smart grin of hers was.

“That’s not –”

“And that gives you more freedom over your own choices.”

“Jesebel…”

But she was unrelenting as she spun in the water around him.

“And with this freedom comes the complete weight of your actions. When they are just your own, not dictated to answer to a higher being they weigh differently don’t they? Being good becomes both a choice and a responsibility, not an ideal.”

He grabbed her by the middle to pull her closer and make her stop.

“I know what you are doing.”

“Oh?” her legs circled around his middle.

“You are not getting into my head with that cynical view.”

“But I do think I am. Lately I keep hearing you saying your prayers more often between my legs than in your precious chapel.”

He secured the woman in his arms and pushed both of them across the pool.

“And if you insist on being this stubborn about it, out of my good will, I will allow for you to do both at the same time.”

He laughed. He had forgotten how liberating it could be. Or maybe he had never laughed like this before, and it was time to learn. In her arms it was safe enough to allow himself to get comfortable with happiness, even if for a moment.

He lifted up just slightly for her to find support. His hand traveled from her breast down to her thigh, teasing the spot that made her gasp with expectation. Knowing he could get that reaction out of her gave him confidence.

Slowly he guided himself in and buried his head in her neck. Her gentle moans made him dizzy while her nails dug into his back offering the kind of pain he was addicted to, the one that kept him aware, anchored him to reality. He traced her round breasts and the curve of her back. His hands believed in all the shapes her body made; his eyes closed, trapped the vision of her in his mind, and further into the core of his being; his lips begged for her to give him deliverance.

She said his name, called out _for_ him. And he understood then that if he was to die tomorrow, he would have regretted more not giving himself the chance of knowing this happiness than parting with it.

Their heartbeats grew louder and louder until they became one, overpowering, urgent, melodies; their tune… and it sang of belonging.

* * *

_"He sounds new, echoes of laughter on an empty riverbed. Not for sailing, but safer."_

> 


End file.
